


Collision

by SherlockWolf



Series: SherlockWolf's Alternate S13 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe Castiel - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Episode: s13e18 Bring 'em Back Alive, M/M, POV Castiel, Season/Series 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 02:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14439606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: Castiel returns to the bunker to find the Winchesters' world in chaos. Thankfully, Dean comes home alive.





	Collision

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so like. Sorry I didn’t upload a story for 13x17 (the one with the tentacle creatures), but I had nothing to work with in that episode! Cas wasn’t in it, and as expected the writers didn’t explain why. I suppose I could’ve gone into Dean’s inner monologue with it, but it would’ve been a few brief comments relating to Hallmark movies ;) I just didn’t feel the pressing need. 
> 
> Then of course the last week and a half my life was consumed with homework, so this installment is an episode behind. The next installment will likely also be late, unless I can pull off a minor miracle.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and if you find any weirdness/grammar mistakes let me know!
> 
> <3

    Castiel had merely gone on a grocery run. A _grocery_ run. A task that took an hour at most, considering he had the usual list of what Sam and Dean needed memorized and he could fly so he didn’t have to waste time driving into town.

    One. Cursed. _Hour_.

    Dean had texted him that he and Sam were home from searching for the Seal of Solomon no less than ten minutes after he’d left, so Castiel assumed that the brothers would settle back into their bunker-related routines and would celebrate the arrival of food as soon as he returned.

    He’d come home to find the Winchesters’ world in chaos.

    The first thing that caught his eye was an orange-yellow crack in the fabric of time and space, hovering behind the library table. The second thing he noticed was the cauldron on said table still steaming from a recent spell. The third: the brothers were not in the vicinity.

    If those assholes had gone into the rift without him…

    “Sam? Dean?” Castiel called out, setting the groceries onto the war table.

    He hadn’t expected an answer, but the sound of Sam’s footsteps parading down the residential hallway toward him was a welcome sound. The distressed look on the man’s face was not.

    “Uh, hey, Cas. I need your help.” Sam said, waving Cas toward him.

    The angel abandoned the groceries and followed Sam to his room. As they walked, Sam explained what happened. He and Dean had returned with the Seal to find Ketch with none other than _Gabriel_ , and hadn’t wasted more than a minute before opening the rift to the Apocalypse World. Castiel had never felt anxiety quite as he did when Sam told him Ketch and Dean had gone through the rift alone. How could Sam have let them go? Especially without _him_. Without Castiel, Dean was in unfathomable danger. If Michael got his hands on Dean…

    If only Castiel had stayed home another _hour_.

    The angel had half a mind to storm through the rift and yank Dean Winchester back to safety by the ear. It was through sheer force of will, and the knowledge that it would be almost impossible to find Dean on the other side, that prevented him from doing so. Instead, he chose to focus on helping his own brother. _After_ putting away the damn groceries.

    Gabriel was in a bad way. He was drained of so much grace that he was less of an angel than Castiel. No wings, no powers. And he was terrified, damaged, exhibiting symptoms of extreme abuse and torture. It turned Castiel’s stomach to see the one brother he still trusted and loved hurt in this way.

    Sam hovered near the door, the bed, the desk, wherever while Castiel attempted to communicate with Gabriel. He could feel Sam’s anxiety for the Archangel’s wellbeing, and wished he could ease the man’s stress. But that wouldn’t be possible, because Castiel himself was feeling similarly, and if he couldn’t help himself or Gabriel, he certainly couldn’t help Sam.

    Gabriel’s mind had locked itself behind so many walls that it was a miracle for Castiel to interact with him at all. His brother recognized himself and Sam, he knew that much. But why he refused to talk, when he _lived_ to ramble on, was a mystery. Did Gabriel not believe he could trust Castiel, his beloved little brother?

    Castiel couldn’t blame him. It had been years since they’d seen one another. Gabriel must be wondering if Castiel had changed into someone who would hurt him. When Castiel remembered what he had done to Donatello, the angel wondered the same.

~

    The bullet wound in his shoulder had him seven ways of fucked up. Dean couldn’t see straight, couldn’t hear right, couldn’t feel the snow he was lying on, and sure as hell had no idea who was hovering over him like a worried mother hen.

    His wild imagination led him to believe that the figure belonged to Cas. That Cas was babbling on about some antidote to some poison while digging through the backpack he’d slung on the snow next to Dean’s head. That Cas was shoving his shirt off his shoulder and dripping some stinging liquid on his skin.

    “What’re ya doin’, angel?” Dean grumbled, trying to make out Cas’ face through the pain.

    “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” A not-Cas voice replies.

    Dean passes out.

~

    The grenade hit the snow and went off immediately. Thankfully the fence was easy to get around, and a second later Dean had his apocalyptic sister freed. Charlie doesn’t recognize him, by the look on her face, so Dean’s not surprised when she doesn’t trust him right off the bat. But they run, without turning back.

    Well, Ketch and Charlie do. Dean takes one last sweep of the area to make sure that no one’s following them. Movement by one of the closer shoddy wooden buildings catches his eye, and it takes a moment for him to determine the outline of a human against the wall. The person stares at Dean, arms at his sides, fists clenched, jaw squared. But they don’t call out or follow. They stare at Dean in a way that makes the man’s skin crawl. He knows that stare—the stare of an angel he met a decade ago.

    The angel disappears.

    Dean runs after Charlie.

~

    Castiel hadn’t been as surprised as Sam to see Asmodeus inside the bunker. Archangel grace was one of the most powerful substances in the universe—breaking through wardings meant for demons not induced with such power was too easy for the Knight of Hell. Castiel had, however, been as equally disappointed as Sam that Gabriel left. He understood his brother’s need to recover—in fact, Castiel wasn’t planning on letting the Sam or Dean convince Gabriel to fight. He himself had once been afraid of involving himself in violence, and knew precisely why Gabriel had no interest in fighting. But he just wanted his brother to _stay_. Maybe Gabriel could have helped him understand what had happened to him in the Empty, or could tell him why he was needed, what his ultimate purpose was in the scheme of all this _mess_. But, no. His brother had left.

    It had taken Sam ten minutes to bring yet another issue with Gabriel’s flee to mind.

    Castiel hadn’t even considered it.

    The rift would close.

    Unless they had Archangel grace.

    Dean would be trapped on the other side.

    It had taken all of an hour for Castiel to help Sam locate every possible book and resource the bunker had on Archangels. They piled everything onto the library table and got to work. Sam kept glancing at his watch, which put Castiel on edge. He knew that watch was ticking down the seconds until the rift would close, and they would lose Dean. For a few days? Months? Years? Forever? The uncertainty was terrifying.

    “Dean’s gonna kick my ass.” Sam sighed as he closed yet another book and pushed it to the end of the table, where they had created a _useless_ pile.

    Castiel smiled wryly up at Sam from the book he’d been reading. If Dean did in fact make it back on time, it would be a bitter sweet reunion once he learned what had happened.

    “Hopefully he’ll have Jack and Mary with him, so we won’t need it anyway.”

    “Yeah. Either way, I owe him some pie.” Sam opened another book and continued working.

    Suddenly, the rift began to flicker and crackle. Sam and Castiel rushed to it, poised to jump in empty handed to go after the man they cared for so much, in their own ways. The exchanged a supportive glance.

~

    Dean’s rage was palpable. It was a testament to how much he’d grown from the young, fiery soul Castiel had first met that the man only swiped some papers from the table.

    Dean turned away, hiding his face and his pain from his family. But Castiel could feel just how much Dean’s soul _ached_ for those he’d left behind in the apocalypse world. When Dean’s anger collapsed into hurt, the angel felt it like a punch in his gut.

    It took all of his willpower, and encouragement from Sam, for Castiel to remain behind in the library when Dean stormed off to his room. Castiel didn’t want him go anywhere without him again. He wanted to follow the man he loved, reassure him that they would find Gabriel, Jack, Mary, and this new Charlie, tell him that no matter how many times they failed they would eventually succeed. They had to. All three of them knew that.

    Sam and Castiel continued their research well into the night. The silence from Dean’s room was haunting Castiel, but he did his best to focus on the task at hand. He would have to satisfy himself with the sensation of Dean’s heart beating through the walls of concrete between them.

~

    The sound of squeaky door hinges roused Castiel from his thoughts. He looked up at Sam, who had fallen asleep some time ago with the side of his face pressed into an open book. His expression was blank, the sadness that usually etched his features gone. Castiel observed Sam’s peace for a moment before the sound of socked feet plodding through the halls had him standing and rushing to find him.

    Dean was in the kitchen, routing through the fridge. He produced some eggs and bacon, and set about making himself breakfast at midnight. Or three am, or whatever time it was. Castiel hadn’t checked the time in hours.

    The angel watched as the man he loved danced around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine. He knew by heart every location of every spice he added to his meal, or each utensil he needed. He hummed a tune of some Led Zeppelin song Castiel vaguely recognized from his mixed tape. The flow of muscle under his too-tight threadbare t-shirt was mesmerizing, as was the flex of his naked calves, since Dean had decided only to wear boxers out of his room. Castiel let his mind wander to what it might feel like to have those calves wrapped around him, pulling him closer to Dean’s heart and soul…

    It wasn’t until Dean turned around, cooked food organized on a plate, that he saw Castiel watching him. Dean’s eyes were red around the edges, traces of tears gracing his cheeks. Alarm flitted across his tired face when he found Castiel there, and he quickly set the plate on the table before climbing the few steps to be level with the angel.

    His voice scratched mercilessly as he said, “Hey, Cas,” and pulled the angel into his arms. Castiel returned the hug, throwing his arms over Dean’s shoulders. Dean pressed a kiss to the side of Castiel’s head, sending a trill of joy through the angel’s grace.

    “Hello, Dean.” The angel nearly whispered, thankful to have the man’s weight leaning against his body.

    It meant he was _home_.

    He flared out his wings slightly to balance them both on the steps as Dean pressed closer to him, hands trailing up to Castiel’s face and bringing him into a slow, soft kiss.

    “Sorry ‘bout earlier.” Dean murmured as he pulled back a little.

    “I understand.” Castiel reassured him, thinking of Dean’s response to finding out Gabriel had left.

    “I just couldn’t risk it.” Dean searched Castiel’s eyes while one of his hands mindlessly played with his hair.

    “Risk what?” Now Castiel wasn’t so sure he knew what Dean was talking about it.

    “You would’ve wanted to go, too. Through the portal. I knew I could stop Sam, but you…” Dean let out a huff, “I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep you safe.”

    “Dean. I could’ve helped.” Castiel chastised.

    “ _Or_ I could’a lost you again. And I won’t survive that twice.”

        He returned to his breakfast, sitting at the table and pulling a disposable napkin from the napkin holder he’d picked up at a thrift store once when he had taken Castiel clothes shopping. It had a small bird on it, which Castiel had liked, so Dean bought it. Funny how hind-sight could show Castiel just how much Dean really did care.

    Castiel sat across from Dean and processed the man’s words. What did he mean, _not survive it_. Of course Dean would survive losing Castiel, he had done so already…Or did he?

    “What do you mean?” Castiel asked, feeling as though the air had been sucked from his lungs.

    Dean’s shoulder’s tensed and he hunched over his food a little more.

    “You were _dead,_ Cas. Gone. Permanently.”

    “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you died with me.”

    Dean let out a dark bark of a laugh. “Yeah, it kinda does.”

    While he ate, Dean explained how he had lost himself when Castiel had died. He’d been in so much pain, so much grief over losing the angel that he’d considered going after him—killing himself. Billie had once told him that he and Sam weren’t bound for Heaven or Hell, so Dean had reasoned that she’d send him where Castiel had gone. 

    Castiel thanked Billie in his thoughts for keeping Dean alive, even though her message of Dean being needed for some important event in the future made the angel sick to his stomach. If he’d come back to a world without Dean…Castiel didn’t even want to consider the possibility. The fact that it _had_ almost been reality scared him.

    “Promise me you won’t do that again.” Castiel said once Dean had finished his confession.

    “Promise me you won’t die again.” Dean countered.

    “You know I can’t.” Castiel said after a moment of deliberation.

    He knew what Dean would say next. The man had trapped him.

    “Then I think we’re on the same page.”

    Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling before standing and snatching two filled mugs from the coffee maker. When he set Dean’s on the table, the man snagged the fabric of the angel’s trench coat, rooting him in place.

    “Sucks that we just figured our shit out and the world’s ending.”

    Castiel smiled wryly, using his free hand to play with Dean’s hair.

    “The world’s not ending, not yet. We’ve still got a chance.”

    “You think so?” His hand tightened on Castiel’s sleeve.

    “Gabriel said it best: I put my money on us.”

    “Speaking of the archdouche, when we find Gabriel, I don’t want you to come with us to the other world. Stay here and puppy guard him or something, but—.” Dean said as he stabbed the last bite of eggs onto his fork.

    “I’m going. You think I would just sit here and wait, knowing the danger you face? You’ve already made me do that once, and it’s not going to happen again.”

    “Dude—.” Dean began to protest, dropping the now-empty fork onto his plate with a clatter.

    “ _Dean_.”  Castiel insisted, hoping the man would give in.

    Of course, he didn’t. Dean let go of Castiel’s coat and turned his body so he could comfortably glare up at him.

    “What happens if you get killed again!? What the hell am I gonna do then, Cas? If you die in another universe, you won’t go to wherever it is—the Empty— _here_ , you’ll go to the one _over there_. And I gotta get my family back _here_ where it’s safe, and I won’t be able to find you again, and…” Dean trailed off as his angry ranting came to an uncertain end.

    The man ran a hand through his hair as he took a steadying breath.

    “And I’m worried about the same thing.” Castiel finished for him, setting his coffee down and pulling Dean to his feet.

    Dean collapsed into the hug, holding Castiel with as much strength as he could. It was a lovely feeling, to be held like this. Castiel was quickly finding himself addicted.

    “I saw you, over there, I think.” Dean said quietly, after some time.

    Castiel let out a soft _oh_ of surprise. “Really?”

    “He had a different vessel. But the way he looked at me reminded me of you, how you were in the old days when you saved me. All self-righteous, Heavenly, sex-god energy.”

    Castiel couldn’t help but tease Dean for that. “What did I do to lose _my_ sex-god status?”

    “Nothing, as far as I’m concerned.” Dean chuckled.

    “And you think this other version of me has that same… _energy_?”

    “I like it when you’re jealous.” Dean murmured, pressing another kiss to Castiel’s head before leaning back and kissing along Castiel’s jawline.

    Castiel weighed his options. He remembered their last conversation of jealousy well, considering it had happened just a few days ago. He could put a stop to the progression of this moment, because he knew where it would go if he didn’t. He and Dean still had a lot to talk about: they hadn’t even managed to talk about how the reappearance of Charlie had brought Dean home with a short-lived smile on his lips. They hadn’t talked about how Sam and Castiel had run into dead-end after dead-end in their search for Gabriel. And they hadn’t talked about what it would _mean_ for them to have sex, which was something Castiel worried about because he wasn’t sure if it would matter to Dean the same way it would to him.

    But then Dean’s lips were on his, and he couldn’t say no.

**Author's Note:**

> I have my fingers crossed that at least one of you will catch my Hamilton reference...
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and if you enjoyed this installment, go read the others!


End file.
